


Curfew

by DemonDeepFried



Series: Drabbles [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crown Jewels, Drabble, F/M, Kinda Creepy Reader, Violence, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:49:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDeepFried/pseuds/DemonDeepFried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You willingly offer to help Jim break into the Crown Jewels. If only for your own amusement...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curfew

Kicking the door in, you surveyed the inside and smirked when you spotted the two guards standing either side of the jewels you were here for. 

You always enjoyed picking them off.

Behind you, you felt Jim’s hand on your shoulder and a voice in your ear, “Remember what we’re here for, so be quick.”

Grinning, you strode over to the guards, who were reaching cautiously for hand guns now, and landed the first- the burlier of the two- with a mean right hook that ended him on the floor with a bloody nose and swelling eye. 

Taking one look at the blood splatters on your cheek and wild eyes, the second guard gulped and his eyes flickered to the door. But you were quicker and managed to cut him off before he could get anywhere near, kicking him sharply in the back of his knee and hearing a satisfying crunch as he fell to the ground groaning and crying out.

“Naw,” you snickered, wetting your lips with a flash of tongue as you watched the man writhe on the ground. Jim was working his little toy to cut into the glass of the Crown Jewels and you snook a peek over your shoulder to spare a glance at him. 

“Y/N,” he sing-songed without even looking at you, “Keeping him alive is just cruel. Kill him now and don’t drag it out. We haven’t time. The CCTV’s on, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” you confirmed with a nod, turning back to the man on the floor. “You know, if my parents knew what I was doing, they’d kill me.” You smirked. “My curfew was half an hour ago. Whoops.”

And with that, you brought down the metal heel of your shoe on his temple, driving it deep and offering a small snicker when you affirmed the man was in fact dead.


End file.
